That Incredibly Stupid Cliche
by jellybellybean101
Summary: One-shot, female Harry. Holly Potter, Girl-Who-Lived, has to get that stolen kiss back from a certain red-haired Weasley boy... During the Summer after fourth year.


**That Incredibly Stupid Cliché**

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Harry Potter. The Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling; I'm merely playing in her ultra cool sandbox.

Summary: One-shot, major fluff. Harry Pot—I mean, Holly Potter is the Girl-Who-Lived. Despite the forthcoming disaster, with Voldemort back and no one believing it, Holly can still find a little fun in her life.

A/N- I got this idea stuck in my head a night after a day at the beach, where I got very bad sunburn. I couldn't fall asleep, with stupid ideas swirling around my mind, so I wrote pages of information relating to the story in the dark, with a blue Sharpie marker.

NOTE: this takes place after the fourth book, during the summer before the fifth year. In this story, Holly had stumbled across the prophecy in Dumbledore's pensieve, but did not yet confront him. She surmises that she and Voldemort can't both survive while the other is alive.

Hope you like it!

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Holly James Potter woke up scowling. Yes, Holly James Potter, as in "Girl-Who-Lived," the "Wizarding World's Savior," now "manipulative lying attention seeking wackadoo."

Despite popular opinion, she is also, and would much rather be known- not as Holly Potter, girl with the lightning-bolt scar who defeated You-Know-Who- but as Holly Potter, normal girl, terrible at Divination (with the old fraud Trelawney predicting her death every other second, of course) and Potions (though that is possibly only due to the fact that the professor hates her with an unwavering and intense loathing, which is just a theory.)

A normal girl skilled at Defense Against the Dark Arts, when not being taught rubbish by bumbling fraidy-cats with Dark Lords in the back of their heads, or insufferable smiling gits, or evil Death Eaters posing as retired Aurors who are overly paranoid ("CONSTANT VILIGANCE!"). Perhaps the sanest teacher was Remus J. Lupin, a great teacher who just happened to be a werewolf (relatively tame and harmless under the Wolfsbane Potion.)

But that could never be possible. Even if Holly did finally defeat Tom Riddle, better known as Voldemort, her life would never be the same again. If only Voldemort didn't murder her parents, leaving her an orphan. If only he didn't try to kill her, too. If only the Killing Curse didn't rebound upon himself, leaving a lightning-bolt scar upon holly's forehead. If only she wasn't carted off to the Dursleys…

Holly groaned, sitting up in bed. _I can't linger on the what-ifs, the could have beens- it'll hurt too much,_ she thought to herself. She had another nightmare last night, in a dimly lit, straight corridor with a single door at the end. There was a light emanating from the black door, white light seeping through the cracks. Holly raced towards it, her heart bursting out of her chest, when the floor fell out from beneath her….

"Ahhh!" she had screamed, cold air rushing past her, making her eyes water and sting. Holly seemed to fall for ages, falling deeper into the blackness. She glanced back up, at the light of the corridor that seemed _so_ far away…

And then she landed in a heap. Holly got up and brushed herself off, only to have her eyes widen in horror. "N-no…" she whispered hoarsely, her breathing ragged. "NO!!!! CEDRIC!"

She fallen straight into the graveyard where, only about 9 weeks previous, Cedric Diggory was murdered, and the Dark Lord had risen. And time and time again since then, she had the same dream, starting the same way- a long, dark corridor with blue flaming torches on the stone wall. And each time, she watched Cedric die, saw herself struggling against the tombstone, saw Voldemort rise again by the flesh (of the servant), blood (of the enemy), and bone (of the father.) And she could do nothing to stop it.

Holly shook her head forcefully, hoping to dispel the dreadful thoughts from her mind. It didn't work; she still felt as miserable as ever. Yet how could one not, living in Grimmauld Place?

She had been in a dark mood ever since she had arrived at Grimmauld Place a week ago, the twins, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny- as well as everyone else- had tried hopelessly to cheer her up. And even when her name was cleared after the trial, Holly still snapped occasionally at the poor person who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Unleashing her fury on people, however innocent they were, felt satisfying. It wasn't as good as, say, throttling Dumbledore, or hitting the Minister of Magic over the head with a hammer, but Holly could make do.

So when Mrs. Weasley suggested they all pop in at the Burrow for a while, Holly brightened considerable, breaking her moody glare at her half-eaten toast. "Really! Can we?"

Molly and Arthur (as they were insisting that a slightly uncomfortable Holly call them that; it sounded wrong on her tongue, but she was adjusting) cast furtive glances at each other, then looked back at Holly guiltily.

Holly's grin slid off her face at once, replaced by a fierce scowl. "You're not going to let _me_ go, are you? I'm just going to be cooped up in here forever, just like Sirius!" She gestured toward Sirius angrily with her left hand before continuing, her voice rising in volume. "I'M NOT A KID ANYMORE! I'M FIFTEEN! I KNOW HOW TO TAKE CARE OF MYSELF, AS YOU VERY WELL KNOW. _I _defeated Quirrel, _I_ killed the Basilisk,_ and I_ saw Voldemort come back! And," Holly bellowed, cutting off Mrs. Weasley as she opened her mouth to argue. "That makes me even more of a target, I KNOW."

"And it WON'T MATTER, because Voldemort is just going to come back AGAIN and AGAIN! HE'S NOT GOING TO STOP UNTIL I'M _DEAD_!" They all opened their mouths at the last part, fierce expressions on their faces, ready to go on and on about how that wasn't true, but Holly cut them off again.

"Did you EVER stop and think about ME? HOW I FEEL? MAYBE I DON'T _want _this burden. MAYBE I DON'T _WANT _TO BE THE ONE TO DEFEAT VOLDEMORT. MAYBE I WANT to be a normal teenager!"

She stalked out of the room towards the stairs, knocking over her chair in the process. Holly turned, and before leaving the kitchen, spoke again, this time in a deadly whisper, gazing furiously at each person in turn, eyes smoldering. "_Maybe, I don't want to be the one in the prophecy. Maybe, I wish I was never born."_

She fled, tears filling her emerald eyes that were no longer fiery, only sorrowful. Holly marched up the stairs, barreling past a set of bewildered Weasley twins heading toward the kitchen.

"H… Holly?" George asked cautiously, putting a hand on her forearm tentatively. She ignored them; roughly brushing past Fred and George and going up another flight of stairs to the room she was sharing with Hermione and Ginny. Holly threw herself on the bed nearest her (which happened to be Ginny's), tears streaming down her face, as the door slammed behind her with a loud bang, echoing throughout the house.

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"Mum, what'd you say to Holly? She looked bloody upset. We could hear her dulcet tones from our room," Fred inquired, his forkful of bacon paused halfway to his mouth.

"Mmm," George agreed, who was wolfing down his breakfast with gusto, unable to string together coherent sentences. Once he swallowed, taking a swig of juice, he added, "Like she's been pummeled within an inch of her life."

"Or eaten by a dragon, and then spit up again."

"Or like the Defense teacher this year will be some old toad."

"Or like she just kissed Malfoy."

"Ooh! Good one, Fred."

"Why, thank you George, old pal."

"You are quite welco-" Fred began, with an air of a stuffy affluent pureblood, but he was cut off by his mother with a murderous look.

It was Mr. Weasley that replied. "Err, Dumbledore had suggested to us that we take a trip back to the Burrow. Your mother and I could pick up a few things we need. He was sure you kids were frustrated being cooped up in this place, and even mentioned you could 'partake in a friendly game of Quidditch.'"

Ron appeared at the doorway, and waltzed toward the table, plopping into the chair Holly had knocked over and snatching a piece of toast. "A' doesn't sound so bad," Ron mumbled, chomping on the bread and sending crumbs spewing everywhere.

Ginny rolled her eyes, disgusted at her brother's behavior. "Ron, honestly. Use your brain. Do you honestly think Dumbledore, or anyone else for that matter, are going to allow Holly to come? They'll think she will be in danger."

Ron spoke up, saying, " Yeah, well Holly's always in danger. Trouble will _always _find her. Is this a big surprise? And besides, she's handled everything thrown at her up till now. She hasn't stopped."

Hermione cut in; with "If Professor Dumbledore advises Holly to stay here, it's probably for the best."

Fred was outraged. " So you're not her friend?" Hermione was shaking her head, and opened her mouth to argue back. Fred continued, "You don't believe in her?"

They began to talk all at once, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other, dismayed. Sirius opened his mouth, and shouted over the babble. "DUMBLEDORE," he yelled, to get their attention, "Dumbledore is a human being. He makes mistakes. I don't like being cooped up here, but out of the two of us, Holly should be able to go. It's her life in our hands. Besides," he said, giving a ghostly smile, " She seems to know about the prophecy."

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George looked confused at that. "What prophe-" Ron began, before Hermione covered his mouth with her hand, dragging him out of the room. "We're going to check on Holly," she said. "She can come?"

Everyone nodded silently, and Ron and Hermione disappeared up the stairs, arguing along the way.

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Holly had calmed down quite a bit, stifling her sobs. She now was sprawled facedown on Ginny's bed, tears soaking her pillow. She hiccoughed, and then froze as she heard voices on the stairs, trailing up from below.

"They're awful hard on her," Hermione remarked. "But Dumbledore thinks it's for the best…"

"Did you hear what Sirius said? Dumbledore's not all high and mighty. He doesn't make the best decisions where Holly's concerned," Ron hissed. Holly stiffened at her name, and felt distinctly grateful towards Ron for sticking up for her, and taking her view on Dumbledore.

Holly turned over straining to hear the conversation, but all she could make out were bits and pieces of sentences. She sighed, flopping back on the pillow.

She heard a noise on the landing that sounded much like Ron tripping over his own feet. Holly laughed inwardly- same old Ron. Sometimes things that never changed are comforting.

There was a timid knock on the door. "Holly?" Hermione whispered. "Can we come in?"

Holly nodded, and then realized they couldn't see her. "Uh… sure," she muttered, feeling embarrassed at her earlier outburst.

They entered, Hermione looking concerned and Ron looking slightly uncomfortable; he was rubbish at comforting. Hermione sat on the edge of Ginny's bed, Ron, stretching out across from them.

They gazed intently at her, waiting for Holly to speak. And she did, after an uncomfortable silence. "Sorry," she finally muttered, flushing. "It was the last straw, with Dumbledore, and C-Cedric, and the Ministry..." Her best friends smiled at her, and both proceeded to tell her what had happened after she left hurriedly.

"So… I can come with you to the Burrow? And we'll play Quidditch?" Holly verified after they finished. She had perked up quite a bit, and was now smiling openly.

"Yup," Ron said, leaning over to pat her hand, "We're leaving in an hour." He got up to leave, Hermione at his heels, when he turned back and said- "So… can I take a turn on your Firebolt?"

Holly stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "Get out, you idiot," she laughed. He scowled, but complied.

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An hour later found Holly, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny clustered in the paddock outside Ron's house. They all, including a reluctant Hermione, clutched broomsticks. Arthur sat nearby, perched upon a Muggle lawn chair. (They were only allowed "a quick fly" "under the watchful eye of Mr. Weasley," Molly had said before stepping into the fireplace, Floo powder in hand.)

Arthur fell asleep at once, despite the loud arguing about who was on what team. (Holly suspected the twins had something to do with it.)

She was about to say that she didn't need to be captain and that she was perfectly fine with George and Ron being captains, she just wanted to play already, when someone crept up behind her and wrapped their arms behind her, brushing his lips against her cheek. "Wanna be on my team?" someone whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

Holly spun around to meet George Weasley. His teasing expression only increased at the thunderous look on Holly's face. George mounted his broom, laughing at her look- half furious, half dumbstruck, then flew into the air.

Holly stood, gazing at him, for a minute before reacting. "Hey! I need that!" Holly cried, outraged, snatching her broom and zooming into the sky after George.

"You _need_ it? Were you saving your "first kiss" for someone special? 'Cause cheek kisses don't count," George replied tauntingly, keeping a distance between them.

"Oh yeah, I was planning to kiss ol' Voldemort next time he shows up to wreak havoc in my life. He'll crumble to ashes under my lips," Holly remarked sarcastically, flying in circles around George.

"And besides," she added as an afterthought, her voice raised to carry to George over the mild breeze, "My first kiss was with Michael Corner after he lost a bet with me, the git. And I did quite a bit of snogging with C-Cedric at the Yule Ball last year. But you don't need to have a companion guide to my private life!"

George sniggered. Holly responded, exclaiming indignantly, "Well excuse me _I _haven't kept records of every poor girl you snogged after confunding them!"

Holly was nearing closer and closer to George, dancing close and then zipping away, laughing the whole time.

"I regret that comment," George said, his eyes never leaving Holly.

"Humph," she remarked, taking her chance. "Well I need that kiss back." She flew next to George, then away again, trying to find the right position. George never moved.

Finally she stopped. Holly was dangling from her Firebolt by her right hand, and George had his hand clasped around her broom, closer to the tail. His knees were tightly wrapped around his own broom.

Holly moved towards George tentatively, feeling much like she was back on the monkey bars in the play park near the Dursley's home, her feet brushing up against the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut, and then reopened them, making sure to avoid looking at the ground. Instead, she gazed into George's eyes, feeling very self-conscious. She took a deep breath, then leaned in, pressing her lips to his…

She almost forgot to pull away, realizing that she had kissed him much longer than he had her, and now he would go after her. In one fluid movement, she swung her body up and onto the broom, winking at George before zooming towards the ground.

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George was thunderstruck. Watching Holly wink at him, then fly off towards the ground, something stirred deep within. Her long black hair blew behind her in the wind, looking very much like a black silk ribbon. Her small figure, perfect for a Seeker, reached the ground, coasting on a sudden burst of wind and gracefully gliding to the ground, where she was met with applause and laughter. Hermione and Ginny swarmed her, each grabbing an arm and dragging her off to interrogate her.

George chuckled, thinking of her expression right now. Probably a murderous one. Holly was probably struggling against her friends, trying to reach her wand. Her emerald green eyes would be bursting with fury, glaring daggers into the girls' backs. She'd never give up, but would instead twirl a strand of her hair absentmindedly, thinking of something else.

Yes, he could imagine exactly what was happening down below. George knew Holly just as well as he knew himself, even better. (Even so, she was still a mystery at the same time. Girls.) He had subtly watched her ever since he helped her with her trunk on the Hogwarts Express, five years ago.

He smiled to himself as he flew down to join his brothers, Holly still on his mind.

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Holly was thunderstruck. Beforehand, she had just been planning to give George a peck on the lips, the same length of time as the cheek kiss. That way, they would nullify each other out, and they would go their separate ways.

Of course, nothing was allowed to be easy for Holly Potter.

She had still been firm about her plan even when she was gazing into George's eyes, but it all went downhill when she kissed him.

It was like a burst of Filibuster's Fireworks exploded inside her. Her insides turned to jelly, and her fingers went limp, (which she thankfully regained control of lest she would have fallen off her broom.) Stars were dancing in front of her eyes, and her heart was beating twice its normal rate.

Needless to say, all thoughts of her plan flew out of her head the second her lips touched his. And she didn't want to pull away.

She had to keep her dignity, though, and not pass out in George's arms, which wouldn't look to good as the Girl-Who-Lived.

And Holly, with difficulty, pulled away from the boy with the flaming red hair, regaining her composure. She winked at him, acting like that was her plan the whole time.

As she flew towards the others, her robes billowing around her in the wind, Holly thought to herself, _Keeping up appearances is very tiring. Let's hope this one holds up._

'It's not like I like George Weasley, my best friend's brother. NO, no, no, no. That reaction was that of any kiss, nothing special. It felt the same way with C-Cedric.' But a little voice in her head that sounded remarkably like the Sorting Hat countered that. _That WAS special, not like any kiss you've had before. With Cedric, it was just tiny sparks. With George, it was a display of fireworks. You LIKE him…_

Holly ignored that tiny fragment of her mind, declaring it "irrational, illogical, and just plain wrong." She felt better squashing those thoughts, but deep inside her, she felt a twang of regret, of longing…

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"So you _don't_ like my brother," Ginny repeated, clarifying, in case a whole ten minute rant about how "I don't like George in that way, and how I have too much on my plate right now to deal with boys, and how I didn't recover from Cedric's death…" wasn't _clear_ enough.

"Are you sure? It seems like you're doing a lot of denying for someone who doesn't like a guy," Hermione said suspiciously, studying intently. Holly resisted the urge to squirm under her gaze and looked at each of them seriously, her green eyes burning into their brown ones.

"I do not like George Weasley in a romantic fashion," Holly said, each word dripping with a strong urge to prove to Ginny and Hermione that she could _never_ like him, and they _knew_ it.

They accepted the statement for the time being, but Holly knew she was by no means of the hook.

She held her shoulders high and stalked after the two whispering girls, leaving the cluster of trees and heading back to the makeshift Quidditch pitch.

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George was having much of the same treatment where Ron and Fred stood, arms crossed, indicating no nonsense was to be had.

"You either like her or you don't. Which is it?" Ron said, tapping his foot impatiently, eager to get back to the game of Quidditch that hadn't even begun.

"No, Ron, you with 'the emotional range of a teaspoon' wouldn't know that it's not that easy. I don't_ know_ if I like her or not. I mean, it's my brother's best friend, which is really very typical and _so _overused, but there you go. I fell into a trap and can't get out."

Ron looked taken aback, but Fred nodded agreeing. He'd been in spots like this before, too.

"So…" Fred began, veering away from the shaky topic, "how was it?"

"What?" Ron asked, totally lost.

George said, "He meant, little naïve brother of mine, 'How was the kiss?' And to that, I say- fireworks. I'm not sure if it was just a natural reaction or real feelings, though, I was too busy concentrating on not falling out of the sky. It's not easy to snog on brooms."

Fred laughed. "It seems like it was real, not just instincts to like the kiss. But what are you going to do until you know? Pretend you have to go and kiss her since she 'overlapped the kiss you stole, taking extra?' That sounds really dumb."

George spotted Hermione and Ginny, with Holly trailing along behind them walking towards them. He hurriedly whispered to Fred and Ron, " Yeah. It's the TBYKW. Take Back Your Kiss War."

They met the girls halfway, laughing to themselves. Amazingly, they made two teams without much difficulty, perhaps due to the secrets each were harboring after their two talks.

Hopefully there's no tension or problems. Just a normal game of Quidditch, George thought to himself as he stationed himself in front of a conjured golden hoop.

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Fortunately for Holly and George, as well as everyone else, and to George's surprise, his wish was granted- the game passed with no impending disasters. George's team, with himself, Fred, and Ginny, lost to Ron, Holly, and Hermione's team.

They trooped back into the house, dirty, tired and ravenous, and collapsed into kitchen chairs, helping themselves to the assortment of sandwiches on the table, waiting to be eaten.

There was little talk, just a one sided conversation with Mrs. Weasley, to which they replied in grunts or incomprehensible mutters, and the sounds of chomping and swallowing. Even Holly, who usually chattered along politely with people, didn't say much, her mind elsewhere.

After Ginny was elected to wake her father, which ensued in a shouting match (again, one-sided, Molly was on a roll) over how Arthur shouldn't have fallen asleep, and they should have woken him up 'or else come into the house, where she gladly would have set them to work cleaning the gutters' (everyone shuddered at this) and how she never would have forgiven herself, and they wouldn't, either, if 'Holly, dear,' was hurt. Tensions were running high as the group was shuttled back to Grimmauld Place.

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Holly had no recollection of what she did the rest of the day; her mind was scattered, and she was fighting an internal battle over what her feelings for George were. She managed to both ignore everyone (not purposely) and jump when someone said something at the same time.

Holly moved through the day like a robot. She and the others were helping Mrs. Weasley "tidy-up" Grimmauld Place. It was much more of a heavy-duty job, in her opinion, with the state of The Order's headquarters.

They managed to make a dent in the layers of dust and grime covering the entire house, and they, much to Kreacher's dismay, threw out more than half of what they found.

"How can people live here?" Hermione said aghast, before Ron reminded her that _they_ were living there, earning a punch in the arm from Ginny.

It was relatively easy work, especially with the help of magic, but there was still the group of Doxies they unveiled from a behind a set of curtains, and the gristly Dark objects abound in the Black household. Still, Holly was able to let her mind wander to… George.

Holly was still in heavy denial, insisting that "I DON'T LIKE GEORGE!" to anyone who would listen, besides George and his twin. (And Ron, who wasn't very emotionally advising, and wouldn't help Holly at all with her problem. Not that she would admit it was a problem.)

It was only after five straight hours of continuous complaining, and denying, and angry whispering, and "wondering whether," that Fred, Ginny, and Hermione (not Ron, again,) congregated in the drawing room while Ron, George, Holly, and Mrs. Weasley went to fetch sandwiches for the lot. ("Oh, dears, thanks for staying behind to start tackling that nest of puffskiens under the sofa. I'm so proud of your dedication." Mrs. Weasley had wailed, before being pulled away by George.)

They by no means meant to get a head start on extracting the dead creatures, and instead exchanged similar anger towards George and Holly.

"Won't shut up about how 'She wouldn't ever _think_ about starting a relationship with George!'" Ginny muttered, mimicking Holly's angry tone of denial.

"And George is alternating on he either likes her or he doesn't, though he said he didn't know when Ron said those exact options. Gits! Gits in love and denial!" Fred said in an angry whisper.

Hermione, the ever logical one, said "Of course then, to stop this stupid nonsense, we just have to get them to admit it to themselves, or else push them together."

This was easier said than done. Subtly suggesting their true feelings to the pair just led them into more hysterical rants, and shifting positions so George and Holly were side by side in their quest for doxy-free curtains led to a bottle of Doxycide spilling everywhere. (It was toxic, just their luck, and burned holes through a rug they were originally going to keep. Damn!)

They met again, their attempts fruitless. Holly and George remained as distant and in-denial as ever until Ginny, reminiscing over a past Christmas, shot off the ground, an idea bright in her mind. She hurriedly conversed with Fred and Hermione, who agreed it was a good plan. ("Bloody brilliant!" by Fred, and "Ingenious, but simple; it just better work." By Hermione.)

Ginny clattered down the stairs, toppling the umbrella stand in her haste ("_Stains of dishonor, filthy half-breed, blood traitors, children of filth…"_) and barreling into Sirius ("Sorry Sirius… talk to you later…. Got to go… (Heavy breathing throughout)… matter of life or death…) he stepped aside, both concerned and amused, and let Ginny stumble down the stairs to the kitchen, where her mother was preparing sandwiches, shooing Holly away but letting Fred and Ron chop lettuce. Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore were occupying the long table, heads hunched together, conversing in heated whispers.

"He-hello, Professors," Ginny began, breathing ragged, clutching her side. She slumped against the table in exhaustion, but was determined to get her idea (all hers!) out that would save everyone a lot of trouble. "Mum… I.. We… Fred, Hermione, and me…. I, well, could we have everyone over tonight? It'll be… like a party."

She beckoned her mother to come closer, ignoring the others in the kitchen, who were surveying Ginny with interest (and, again, amusement. _Why__ am I so funny __now__?_) Ginny whispered her plan into her Mum's ear, her brown eyes glinting with mischief.

Her mother seemed to like the idea, and pushed the plate of sandwiches into her daughter's slender arms, rushing at once to prepare for tonight's events. Ginny left, leaping the stairs two at a time, eager to tell Fred and Hermione of their plan's--- her plan's, that is--- success. "I'll do the decorations!" she called back over her shoulder as she ran past Sirius again (who smirked and stole a sandwich) and mounted the stairs.

Molly smiled to herself as she flicked her wand, the potatoes beginning to peel themselves of their own accord in the silver bin in the sink. '_Oh, what a wonderful idea! Christmas in the summer… how that will raise everyone's spirits. And I am becoming concerned about Holly dear, the poor girl. I don't blame her for being upset at Albus. Ah well. This is so exciting! And my smart little girl thought of it all by herself. So selfless, wants to make everyone feel better.'_

Two floors above her, Fred, Hermione, and Ginny were skipping up and down the rickety staircase, casting charms and decorating the whole house. They were unusually jolly, excited at their plan's success, overjoyed at the prospect of George and Holly solving their problems (which was brighter for them; no denying, no complaining, no long rants.) It didn't hurt that they were celebrating Christmas, in August nonetheless, and everyone gets jumpy around Christmas. (Matchmakers, too, tend to be exceedingly happy when their plan is set into motion.)

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Molly Weasley told the plan ("Made by Ginny, my smart little girl. She just wants to see everyone happy." Mrs. Weasley exclaimed proudly,) to Albus Dumbledore, who had a strange twinkle in his blue eyes, and to a scowling Severus Snape.

Dumbledore immediately agreed to send a Patronus to all members of the Order, notifying them of the special celebration tonight. About a dozen phoenixes flew out of his wand, scattering in all directions to deliver the message.

Severus Snape was elected to tell "the children" (who would have been dismayed to be called that,) the news, much to his horror and everyone else's hidden amusement.

He glided up the stairs like an overgrown bat, his charcoal robes billowing out behind him before he disappeared into the drawing room.

"Someone," Snape began, sneering in Ginny's direction, "invented this 'delightful' idea of a Christmas celebration in the middle of the summer. So tonight, wear your best dress robes and do make an attempt to look presentable." He threw another glare at them all, looking far from delighted. "Dinner's in the dining room."

He left with another sneer, the door snapping shut behind him. Ginny, Fred, and Hermione cast each other knowing glances, then shrugged under Holly and George's gazes, hiding grins.

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Holly twirled in front of the mirror, unsure of her appearance. She was clad in a pair of silky sage green dress robes; a cream dress styled much the same underneath. The fabrics mixed and fell into a swirl of pale green and cream towards her feet.

Her unruly black hair was relatively tame, and swept of her neck in a loose twist held in place by a jeweled clip. A few stray strands were left down, and the effect was breathtaking.

"Wow," Hermione remarked, pulling on her own rose colored dress robes. Holly flashed a smile, then stuck her head out the door. "Coast is clear, Hermione, Ginny," she said, stepping out into the corridor. They linked arms, beginning their descent down the stairs.

Suddenly, Hermione and Ginny rush down the stairs, joining the crowd of Order members in the too-small hallway. Holly was left standing on the middle of the staircase, one hand on the smooth wooden railing, glaring at her two female friends.

She started as she heard a door open on the landing below, and George was pushed forcefully out the door, Fred following him.

"Have fun, you two lovebirds!" Fred quipped, slipping down the stairs before either George or Holly could go after him. Holly frowned, and walked tentatively towards George, who had a strange expression in his dark eyes.

She reached George, and couldn't meet his eyes as he put a gentle hand on her elbow, guiding her down. "Be my escort, m'lady?" he laughed, skipping down the stairs. "Oh, and you owe me a kiss."

Holly looked up, startled, her stomach dropping while her heart pounded so loudly against her ribcage she was surprised it went unnoticed by anyone else.

"Still? But then, somehow, I'm going to kiss you longer than the extra time I spent last time, and so you'll have to---" Holly stopped as she felt George move closer.

"There's a way to counteract it, you know. We can either kiss each other at the exact same time, or…" George whispered huskily, trailing of at the end as he moved closer. He filled her vision, and she could count the freckles on his face as it moved towards hers, searching her face.

"And… what's that?" Holly whispered shakily, trying her best not to have a heart attack right then and there. How everyone would laugh, the Girl-Who-Lived dead of a too eager heart. Voldemort would be ecstatic.

Holly wasn't aware that everyone in the hall had gone silent, turning towards them. All she could feel was George's warm breath tickling her face, and all she knew was how much she wanted to kiss him.

George was silent for a second before replying to Holly. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, and Holly got a whiff of his cologne- it smelled like a combination of evergreen trees, the sultry wood of a broomstick, and peppermint candies. She breathed in deeply, locking the scent in her mind forever.

"Mistletoe…" was George's answer, before leaning down, taking a sharp intake of breath, and then kissed her, her lips coming up to meet him. Their first kiss, hanging off their brooms, was nothing compared to this. If that was fireworks, this was a full-fledged bomb. It felt… right to both of them.

George was exceedingly gentle, withholding his passion. He didn't want to drive Holly away, and so took it slow. He kept one hand on the small of her back, rubbing small circles with his thumb. She moaned against his mouth, and began to kiss him with a fiercer passion.

Holly's immediately found George's hair, and she ran her hands through the soft red locks. With her obvious longing, he began to match her passionate kisses.

As George pulled one hand to Holly's cheek, he felt faint tear tracks, and began to kiss her more gently, sweeter.

Neither wanted to pull away, but after a century, it seemed, George pulled back and rested his forehead on her, losing himself in those emerald eyes that could see through to your soul.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered. Holly just stared back at him. "Your—eyes. They are just…" he fumbled for the right words, but Holly interrupted him, trying to pull away. His grip loosened immediately, and his hand on her back stopped moving.

"Just like my mother's, I know. I know!" she said in a harsh whisper, hurt.

"No, no, no, no. That's not what I was going to say." He drew her closer before continuing, "Your eyes are stunning. And they're your own. They're YOU. I… err… conversed with a portrait of your parents, and hers are green all the way through. Yours, yours are stormy swirls of dark and light green with specks of brown. It's subtle, though, but your eyes are you. They see through people, straight into their souls.

"And your hair is you. Though it may be rather untamed, which resembles your father's hair, your hair looks like a streaming silk ribbon, blowing in the breeze. It's a beautiful, and it's a part of you.

George continued to describe just how beautiful each part of her was, and each time, Holly took a sharp intake of breath, as if George was handing her his heart, piece by piece.

"But what's more important is in here," George continued, patting her heart lightly. 'You are brave, painstakingly so, and will risk anything for the protection of those you love. You are clever, and not only academics wise. You are wise with your friends, trying harder than necessary to have them be happy, even if it hurts you. And you are skilled at pranking, and are intelligent enough to know how to gain things to aid you, without harming others. You're loyal, and charming, and the sweetest girl known to mankind.

"But perhaps the most important is your ability to love. You are so pure- you are, your heart is, and your soul is. Your heart must be at least two times bigger than everyone else's, for you can love. Love is the most powerful force in the universe, and that is what you have that Voldemort doesn't. And not just romantic love, but love between friends, and between parents, and between guardians, and teachers. You can love, and that is what makes up you. You can see the good in everyone, even if it is a slight sliver."

Holly began to cry silently, her eyes still gazing trustingly into George's. He wiped her tears but continued to talk.

"You are much like a unicorn. They are the most beautiful creatures on earth, and are so pure and innocent, like you. And though evil can finds it's way to a unicorn, it is a terrible price to pay, leaving the person who dared harm the unicorn and tethered to his life."

"And when your mother protected you, you became like that unicorn. Her blood flows through your veins, and it is pure, and innocent. Time after time, evil has found you, but it they pay a terrible price. No matter how many dark things you see, you will still remain pure of heart, protected by your blood. Your heart will save you."

Holly was crying freely now, leaning into George's chest, who wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back soothingly. She pulled back, and they kissed again, lightly this time, the salt of Holly's tears on their lips.

They step back, staring at each other, a light smile on their faces, when something barrels into them. Mrs. Weasley engulfs them in a bear hug, sobbing and clutching Holly and George to her. She steps away and moves back a few paces, tears running down her face, her pride in George obvious.

Holly blushed, seeing all of the members of the Order, and whoever else was packed into the hallway, had watched the private encounter. George, however, stood firm, taking Holly's hand. "I am not ashamed that I am head-over-heels in love with Holly," George began, his tone a mixture of pride, love, protectiveness, and a fierceness of his love. "I love Holly Potter, and always will, and will never deny it or be ashamed of it."

Holly glances at George, seeing his emotions clear on his face, and realized in that moment just how much she loved him. "I feel the exact same way," she stated fiercely, "and there's no way you can stop me. I love George Weasley, and want everyone to know that even if Voldemort kills me, my feelings will be the same, and I am not, nor will ever be, ashamed of loving him."

Everyone emitted a slight "Aww," save Snape, as they kissed again. Pulling apart only when they needed to breathe, they sought out the crowd's reactions.

Fred was gobsmacked, his mouth hanging open at the whole slew of mature words that had tumbled out of his twin's mouth. However, he looked distinctly relieved, and was just happy their plan had worked- no more brothers ranting about love- for now. (Until Ron grew up, anyway, which wasn't going to be anytime soon.)

Ron's brow was furrowed in confusion, despite the fact that he had participated in the talk after their first kiss. (He later remarked, "But I thought you like Michael Corner…" to which Ginny replied scathingly, "Oh, Ronald, keep up. Holly went out with him a few times in third year, and I dated him the next, while she went out with Cedric.")

Hermione and Ginny smiled knowingly, then, when the George and Holly weren't looking, cast each other subtle glances of relief. "Finally! I saw it coming all these years, and then with the denial! God, I'm glad it's all over," Ginny whispered to Hermione, who giggled.

Luna Lovegood, whom Holly had been introduced to through Ginny, ("You'll be _such _great friends!") was disinterested, instead scrutinizing the small sprig of mistletoe under which Holly and George had kissed. ("Oh, I was looking for nargles!")

Sirius Black, Holly's godfather, wore a mix of quite a few expressions- one of amusement, one of murder and horror, and one of happiness, glad Holly found someone she loved. ("If you hurt my Holly I'm gonna kick your butt into last year!" Sirius had threatened, George gulping nervously before pledging that he would kill himself and Fred and Percy before hurting Holly. Sirius immediately brightened, clapping a hand on George's shoulder, leading him over to Remus Lupin, where they engaged in a discussion of good pranks, soon joined by Fred.)

Remus Lupin was merely happy for Holly, and knew that George would take good care of his best friend's daughter. He had known this day would come…

A heavy celebration followed, and Holly and George couldn't be happier. They stood closer together, always touching each other, even if they were just holding hands. Holly couldn't keep the wide Cheshire Cat grin off her face, and not once did angry thoughts cross her mind, nor did the prophecy, the fact that she was a wackadoo to the Wizarding World in general, or Lord Voldemort slowly gathering his army.

That day, and that night, she was just a normal teenager, just Holly Potter, who happened to be a witch. Holly Potter, who was the girlfriend of George Weasley. Holly Potter, who was victim to the cliché of falling head over heels for her best friend's brother (and only realized in a day, too.)

She tumbled into bed around three, those still partying in the kitchen, incredibly drunk (and Sirius was among them, his hair turned purple.) Luna Lovegood had stayed over and was sleeping in the room she, Ginny, and Hermione shared. The other three were passed out snoring quietly.

Holly settled back in bed, nestled snuggly amongst layers of blankets conjured by George ("We can't have you freezing to death now that I have you, " he had remarked with a smirk.)

She closed her eyes, a blissful smile on her face, and the last coherent thought in Holly's mind was-

"_Thank God for those incredibly stupid clichés."_

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_A/N- There! It's done! I hoped you liked it; please review!_

_Also, would you be interested if I continued the story of Holly Potter, Girl-Who-Lived, but started at the beginning, in her first year?_

_I need feedback!_

_Thanks for reading- _

_Jellybellybean101_


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